


The Untold Fakes

by FluffyFlydr



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Arrest, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Gratuitous use of knives, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Immortality, Los Santos, Los Santos Police Department, M/M, Murder, Other, Respawn, Torture, all platonic stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyFlydr/pseuds/FluffyFlydr
Summary: The little (in some sense of the word) heists, the off time, and the cops versus criminal masterminds. The Fakes are here to wreak shit and be the rulers of this city, but things aren't always Mission Complete and Platinum score. Sometimes, it's bumcheese. These are their stories. (DUNN DUNN)





	1. Chapter 1

Intro: Geoff and Jack

 

Geoff tripped his way into crime, and Jack came along for the ride.

“So, hypothetically-” he started one day, sitting down on Jack’s couch.

“I want you to know that I already hate this, but go on,” replied Jack.

“If HYPOTHETICALLY, I had committed a crime, how would you feel about it?” Jack closed her eyes and sighed. Geoff started to say something but Jack held up a finger to stop him. After a few deep breaths  _ (in and out, Jack, in and out)  _ she opened her eyes.

“Did you get caught?” She demanded.

“Well, in this absolutely hypothetical situation, no, I didn’t.”

“Okay, what crime?”

“Tax evasion.”

“Okay, well that’s not horrible-”

“And then I kind of mugged the guy that reported me for it.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s worse-”

“And he’s a little dead.”

“He- wh- oh c’mon, the FUCK, Geoff?!”

Geoff cringed away from Jack, mumbling something about hypothetical situations and philosophy experiments. Jack stood up and started pacing around the living room of the small apartment they shared. She settled in front of the couch, glaring at Geoff.

“Okay. Did you hide the body.” Geoff looked startled at this turn of attitude.

“Uh, yeah. It’s on-”

“No, don’t tell me, at this point I have plausible deniability or something.”

“I’m like 65% sure that’s not how that works.”   
“What did you do with the weapon?”

“Uh, I kinda just hit him with a rock, and uh, panicked… So it’s in the closet.”

“Fuck.” Jack sat down beside Geoff again. “Fuck!” She repeated.

“Are you going to call the cops?” Geoff asked in a quiet voice. Jack shoved him.

“No! I’m just… thinking,” she replied. She sat there for some agonizing seconds. Geoff could practically hear time ticking away, even though their clock had been broken for years. “Okay,” Jack said finally. “This is what I’m going to do.”

* * *

 

When the Los Santos police department came knocking on their door, Jack was the one to answer it. She had her hair held back with bobby pins and an old tracksuit on. She blinked at the officers at her door.

“Can I help you sirs?” she asked. Her voice conveyed the perfect blend of wariness and respect, mixed with the perfect bit of guilt and innocence. If her voice was a smoothie, she thought, it would be the best damn smoothie ever tasted. She was kind of hungry from working out.

“Excuse us, ma’am, but we’re looking into the death of a businessman you may know, Mr. Gonzales.” Jack paused as if racking her brain for someone of that name. Thankfully, she had stopped Geoff from telling her anything about his little… incident, so she had no idea who the guy was. Plausible deniability.  _ Point one for Jack, _ she thought.

“Can’t say I know him, sorry. YO GEOFF!” she yelled back into the apartment, “YOU KNOW A GONZALES GUY?”

“YEAH! HE’S THE DUDE THAT KEEPS HARASSING ME ABOUT CASH OR WHATEVER,” Geoff yelled back. He was in the other room, reading a book. They had planned this out. The police probably knew that Geoff knew Gonzales. No use lying about that. They definitely knew the circumstances under which Geoff and Gonzales were connected, unlike Jack. Jack was still pissed that Geoff was committing tax fraud and they still lived in a small, shitty apartment. What kind of bullshit tax fraud was it that you couldn’t even afford an actual house or something?

“Could we speak to your husband, ma’am?” the officers asked. Jack raised her eyebrows.

“You can certainly talk to my  _ roommate _ , officers,” she said in a voice that held just a little too much sweetness. “GEOFF! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!”

“You better not be trying to make me exercise anymore, I swear to god-” Geoff stopped short when he saw the officers. “What the fuck did you do, Jack?” he demanded.

“Nothing, dude! I swear! They showed up at the door and wanted to talk about Gonzales!” Jack retorted. She snuck a glance at the cops still at the doorway, glassy-eyed and bored.  _ I could be a world class actor, _ she thought to herself.

“Uuuuugh, this shit again? Listen, I work at a bookstore. I don’t know anything about tax fraud. We live in a shitty apartment. This dude just keeps harassing me and Jack when we are law-abiding-”

“Sir, Mr. Gonzales was found dead a few days ago.” Geoff froze, mouth slightly open.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “Well now I feel bad to speak ill of the dead…” he scratched his head, looking down sheepishly.

“He was murdered.”  _ No shit. _

* * *

 

When the officers left, Geoff collapsed on the sofa.

“That was the worst 30 minutes of my LIFE,” he complained.

“It could have gone worse,” Jack replied. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins and she hopped from foot to foot. She chugged a water to calm down and offered another to Geoff.

“It could have gone better,” Geoff retorted, taking the offered drink. Jack nodded.

“We’ll do better next time,” she said definitely. Geoff sat up.

“No, there won’t be a next time, we’re not getting involved with police ever again.” Jack didn’t reply. “Jack, I swear to god. Don’t become a cop chaser.” Jack sighed and sat down.

“Fine,” Jack whined, before splitting into a broad grin. “But you’ve gotta admit, we’re pretty good fakers, right?”

“Fuckin… yeah, I’ll give you that,” Geoff admitted. He held up his bottle as a toast. “Here’s to being fakes.”


	2. Intro: Gavin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wonderful awkward brit makes an entrance!

Gavin was already a criminal when he turned the duo into a trio.

Geoff was working a late night at the bookshop, which wasn’t too difficult when their only real customers were the occasional tourist or someone desperately looking for a gift for a friend and resorting to a failing bookshop to find something. Jack was in the front of the shop hidden between bookshelves doing god knows what. Geoff didn’t bother looking up from his current read when the bell on the door rang.

“Welcome, if you need any help just ask,” he drawled in a tired voice.

“Oi, put your hands up and give me all the cash you have,” came a squeaky British voice. Geoff looked up.

“Are you… robbing… a bookstore?” he said incredulously. He scanned the man standing in front of him. He wasn’t shoddy per say, but he still managed to look like a broke college kid. He was holding a gun sideways, pointed at Geoff’s chest. Dark blonde hair poked out from under a grey hoodie. “Where did you learn to hold a gun, a rap music video? Straighten your gun, dumbass.” He motioned for the man to comply.

After a couple of confused seconds in which the man came to the conclusion that no, Geoff was not lying, and yes, was aware that he was being held up, and no again, was not entirely loopy, just tired and not making enough money to deal with this shit, he straightened his gun. He rocked back and forth, the gun still pointed at Geoff’s chest.

“Wot are you- christ, just give me your cash!” He barked.

“Yeah, alright, let me just find the fucking-” Geoff scrambled for the key to the register. “Good LORD why did we never organize this fucking desk?”

“Wait, we?” the man asked just in time to be hit over the head with a heavy book. He went down like a bag of rocks, just missing hitting his head on the desk. Jack stood above him, fire in her eyes.

“Love and war, Jack? Seriously?”

“It was the first thing I grabbed, asshole.”

The two looked down at the unconscious man on the ground.

“What now?”

* * *

 

When Gavin woke up he was lying on a shitty couch with a massive headache. He groaned and rolled over to see a glass of water sitting next to him. Sitting up, he took stock of his surroundings. He was in a small room with an old tv and an armchair across from him. There was a man reading in the chair. Who looked really familiar. If only his head would stop spinning…

“JACK! He’s awake!” the man called over his book. A woman walked into the room, glaring daggers at him.

“We shoulda left him in the woods or something,” she said, “like last time.” Gavin didn’t like the sound of that, and he was starting to remember who the man was and why his head hurt so badly.

“Listen, I fucked up, uh, whoops? How about you just let me go and we’re good?” he asked. His victims (or kidnappers?) looked at him suspiciously. The man held up a finger and pulled the woman aside, but as they still remained in the same room and the separation was only about 5 feet, the effect was diminished. In truth, he could still hear the conversation.

“Should we just call the cops?” the woman asked. The man shook his head.

“Jack, he’s just a kid. I checked his wallet, he doesn’t even have a credit card or anything. Dude’s as broke as us. He’ll get caught on his own terms later- did you see the way he tried to rob us? He’s an amateur!” The woman, Jack, snuck a glance at Gavin.

“Yeah but Geoff, he still tried to rob us! What if he has friends? We aren’t prepared to deal with like, gangs! One or two we could take care of and get away with, but more than that and we’re dealing with a lot of bodies and not a lot of safe deniability!”

Gavin stood up from the couch. Instantly Geoff and Jack turned to him. Geoff’s hand darted to his pocket and Jack grabbed the nearest thing to her- another book. Gavin held his hands up defensively.

“Alright look, I’m kind of new in town, a li’l desperate, and occasionally a li’l wee bit stupid! I’ll keep quiet about… Whatever this thing is you’ve got going on and you won’t hit me over the head again? Deal? We good?” Gavin gave two thumbs up and looked at his assailants hopefully. Geoff sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he whined, “this was so much hassle…” he reached into his pocket and pulled out Gavin’s wallet, tossing it to him. Gavin fumbled it immediately. He snatched it off the ground and stood pole straight like a cat pretending that no one saw him. Jack dragged her hand over her face and groaned.

“Gavin, right?” she asked. The lad made a warbling noise of affirmation. “If you need, like, a job or something… we might need a temp worker. Pay isn’t great, but it’s something. And maybe you’d have the time from that to learn how to be a better fucking criminal, y’know?”

Gavin gave Jack a wide smile, and the second Geoff unlocked and opened the door, sped out of the apartment.

Jack watched him bolt down the hallway.

“We are so about to get arrested,” she grumbled.

* * *

 

What Geoff and Jack did not expect was a quiet few days with no negative repercussions. What they expected even less was Gavin showing up again at their store.

The second the bell jingled and Gavin walked in, Jack had a book ready to strike and Geoff tucked himself under the register. Gavin yelped and ducked, covering his head with his hands.

“Oi!!! No!!! Stop it!!! Ay!!!” he squeaked. “I don’t even have a gun! We’re good! Relax!” Geoff peeked over the counter and Jack lowered her weapon slightly.

“What are you doing here?” Geoff asked from his hiding place.

“Well you guys said you had a job for me, right? So I showed up!” Gavin gave the two a beaming smile.

“Really? No tricks or getting mugged in an alleyway, right?” Jack asked.

“Yeah! I wanna be part of a team! Sounds fun!” Jack and Geoff exchanged a look. Jack was first to give in.

“Fine, but if you try any shit I will bash you,” she threatened. Gavin threw his hands up.

“I’m in a creeeeeeeeew!” he exclaimed.


	3. Intro: Michael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Gavin meet at a bank. Gavin buys two pairs of sunglasses in one day. Jack doesn't want blood on her nice carpet.

Gavin’s first week in the crew sucked.

This was mostly due to the fact that he hadn’t realized that the “job” that Jack and Geoff were hiring him for was to work at the bookshop and not for criminal activities. To be fair, sales had gone up slightly now that there was a coffee shop opening right next door and people seemed to appreciate the new, peppy face that greeted them when they walked into the bookstore. But still, Gavin was restless. He managed a week before he was too fidgety to stay put.

“Geoff! I’m taking my lunch break!” he yelled out.

“I would say don’t do something dumb, but…” Geoff replied from inside a maze of bookshelves. Gavin grabbed his jacket, gun, and a fresh pair of sunglasses (just $10 at the corner store, but he still thought he looked ‘hot as dicks’) and raced out.

He stopped beside a convenience store to shoot himself finger guns in the reflective windows, then at the jewelry store to stare longingly at the shiny goodies inside. As he walked blocks away from his starting point he took in the town, although whether he was appreciating the scenery or casing his next hit none could be sure. Finally, he reached his destination- the bank.

His hands were jittery as he entered the bank. He tried to breathe evenly but he was a bundle of nerves. He adjusted his shades and strode with fake confidence up to the teller. She looked up with a customer service smile plastered on her face. Gavin put a hand on the gun in his pocket.

“Morning love, could you-”

“PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP AND GET ON THE GROUND!” A man screamed. Gavin jerked and pulled his gun out. The teller shrieked and raised her hands, stepping backward. Gavin looked down at his gun and then at the teller. Slowly he turned to look at the other standing man in the bank who was regarding him with the same confused expression. “What the fuck are you-”

“P-put your guns down!” A security guard yelled. His hands shook holding his pistol as if it was too heavy for him. Gavin shot the other robber a look and then shot two bullets into the guard’s chest.

The two men were once again at a standoff. But at this point, the screaming bank was in need of crowd control and someone had to deal with actually getting the cash before the cops showed up, so the two made a silent pact that they would figure out what the fuck was going on once things quieted down a little.

* * *

 

Things didn’t really quiet down.

In fact, things got much louder when the police arrived and began to set up a perimeter and Gavin and his newfound accomplice made a money-laden dash for the back exit, their escape peppered with high-strung panicked giggling from both parties. The other man clicked a button he pulled from his pocket and the deafening explosion of a line of C4 in front of the cops shook the street. Bullets flew over their heads and Gavin heard his partner yelp as a lucky shot met its mark in his leg. But still, they ran. 

In the alleyway a building down from the bank, a trashy blue car was waiting. The other man threw the duffel bag of cash into the backseat as Gavin jumped into the car. The keys were already in the ignition and the second his partner was in the car with the door closed, Gavin tore away from the scene like a bat out of hell.

As sirens began to fade in the distance and heartbeats calmed, Gavin and the man in the car finally took a good look at each other. The man was wearing absolutely nothing to hide his face- honestly he looked like he had just woken up and accidentally begun a robbery. But his eyes were sharp and firey as they investigated Gavin’s face.

“Okay, well I feel like this a little late but uh… I’m gonna need an introduction or I’m just gonna straight up fucking shoot you,” the man stated. He put a hand on his gun for emphasis.

“Well- wot? I just robbed a bank with you! That’s gotta count for something! Why would you- wot?” Gavin stammered.

“Just fucking tell me who you are! You could be, like, a plant or something!”

“I’m Gavin! Who are YOU?”

“I’m... Michael. And I’m also still kind of bleeding. Do you have like a place I can go and bandage up? My place isn’t safe enough to lie low at.” A little smile appeared on Gavin’s face.

“I know the perfect place to go.”

* * *

 

“THIS WAS THE WORST PLACE TO GO!” Geoff screamed. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” Geoff, Jack, Gavin, and Michael were all present in Geoff and Jack’s apartment. Michael lay on the couch, and Gavin was hauling three duffel bags of money around, refusing to let go of them. 

“Look he’s cool! It’s fine! We make a sweet team and we got a bunch of cash!” Gavin squeaked. 

“Listen, guys,” Michael interjected, “this is sweet and all and I’m glad you’re protective and all that but I would like to point out that I am STILL BLEEDING!” Jack bent down to look at Michael’s leg.

“It’s through and through,” she said, “you’ll basically just need stitches. We can probably take you to the hospital-”

“NO HOSPITALS.” Michael snapped. Jack’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, either you get that stitched up or you’re going to keep bleeding in the middle of our living room, which I am not going to have. SO either we take you to a hospital or I throw you into an alley and you can try your luck with a fuckin’ raccoon or something.”

“Well aren’t you just a fucking peach,” snarled Michael, propping himself up on the couch to glare properly at Jack. Gavin attempted to interject himself between the two, stuttering words of protest.

“Alright assholes, back it up,” Geoff sighed, pulling a chair over to the couch. He held a sewing kit on his lap. “Michael, bite down on this,” he offered the man a roll of gauze. “Jack, get me some water. Gavin…” he paused. Gavin looked at him hopefully. “Just… uh… hang in there?” Gavin deflated.

“Ey, boi, take like 50 bucks and buy yourself something cool,” Michael mumbled around the gauze. Gavin lit up again, grabbed a couple of loose, random bills from the bags, and darted out with a quick wave. Geoff sighed and set his attention back on Michael’s leg.

“Should be just like sewing, right?” he muttered. Michael’s face contorted in worry.

“Wait, have you not done this- FUCK!”

* * *

 

When Gavin came back sporting a new pair of white and gold aviators, the small apartment had become a lot less volatile. Michael was still on the couch, but he was sitting up now and had a bandage wrapped around his leg. Geoff was reclined in the armchair and would have looked asleep if not for his eyebrows twitching in response to the conversation being had between Jack and Michael. They seemed to be swapping backstories. They greeted Gavin warmly.

“Hey, Gav! Jack was telling me about starting the bookstore. I can’t fucking believe you managed to pull off tax evasion, kidnapping, and attempted murder from that tiny place!” Michael and Jack laughed.

“It was only a little bit of attempted murder,” Geoff chimed in, annoyed.

“And Michael was filling me in on your escapades today,” Jack added. “That’s some funny shit! What are the odds, right?”

Gavin sat down on the couch with his friends to keep the story circle going.

Their legends were just beginning.


	4. Intro: Ryan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew hesitantly teams up with someone new. Ray smokes the devil's lettuce. Dick jokes are made.

After a year, the crew was officially a crew.

Geoff finally caved and started letting Michael and Gavin plan “excursions” while in his apartment, which then became Michael, Gavin, and Jack actively planning criminal activity while Geoff sat in his armchair and offered advice in between bouts of complaining. But as much as Geoff ragged on the group, they made a good team. 

Geoff ran point, Gavin made first contact, Jack was crowd control or diversions, and Michael was the one that would come out guns blazing and wipe away out any complications, whatever or whoever they might be.

They had added a new partner, Ray, a couple months back. He was their sniper and lookout. One day, he came to them with a special job.

“So there’s this bounty,” he announced, placing a folder on the dining room table, “and a dude is offering mad money to have us carry it out.”

“Sweet, who’s it on?” Jack asked. She sat at the head of the table, eating breakfast. Geoff was half asleep with his head on the table next to her. She occasionally shoved his head out of the way when he slipped close to her plate.

“This politician dude, Mike Hawk.”

“That can not possibly be his actual name,” Geoff interjected, fighting off giggles.

“I know, right? Anyways, the employer is offering 100 grand to take him out.” Ray was interrupted again by Michael walking into the room.

“Yo, fucking 100 grand?! Shit! I’m in!” he exclaimed, clapping Geoff on the shoulder as he sat down. Geoff groaned in response and sat up.

“Who is this guy hiring us? And why did he hire us specifically? We’ve only run robberies,” he asked.

“Guy hiring us is a millionaire named Wilson Wrede. Alliteration! What a dude. He heard about us because of those feelers you’ve been putting out in the good ol’ Los Santos underworld, Geoff,” Ray explained. Geoff nodded. “Evidently, no crew will take the job, so he’s asking us.”

“Okay that’s just shifty. What’s the catch?” Jack asked. Ray grimaced.

“Well... he specified that if you want the cash, you need to work with somebody he chose. He doesn’t trust a crew without supervision, I guess.”

“I deal with you fuckin’ schmucks every day, what’s one more? Who is this guy?” Geoff asked.

“His name is...” Ray lowered his voice, “the Vagabond.” He paused for dramatic effect. The rest of the table stared at him blankly. “Seriously, you guys? The Vagabond? Terror of Los Santos? The Punisher if the Punisher was just a psychopath with a mask?” He looked for confirmation, but the Fakes just shook their heads. Ray threw up his hands in disgust.

“Listen, the dude sounds like an asshole, but like, we can just keep out of his way and stick him on cover fire with me, right?” Michael asked. Geoff and Jack nodded. “And if this guy is so cool and whatever, why doesn’t he just do the job himself?”

“I was about to get to that!” Ray exclaimed, “The Vagabond never takes off his mask, so he can’t get into the gala where the mark is going to be. And all the security is set up specifically to keep him out. No one’s gonna notice a couple of randos.”

“This dude gets shiftier and shiftier. But a hundred grand is a hundred grand! This could be our break!” Jack said, her eyes alight. “Where do we start?”

“Well first, we need the dumbass to get here,” Ray said.

Gavin pushed through the door with a coffee in one hand and a doughnut in the other.

“What’d I miss?”   


* * *

  
The five Fakes stood outside the door of a room in a high rise apartment complex in central Los Santos. Gavin had been the first to arrive, but the least willing to knock on the door.

“I waited for 15 minutes! Where were you lot?” he demanded.

“Gav, you could’ve just gone in,” Michael laughed.

“And get murdered while you all were off stuck in traffic or something? Fat farting chance!”

“Oh my god, just knock on the door!”

“No! You knock!”

“Fuckin’ christ, SOMEBODY knock!” Geoff whined.

The door swung open to reveal a tall man wearing a dark grey skull mask. Gavin yelped and jumped backward.

“For crying out loud, are you chucklefucks coming in or are you going to squabble outside of my door for the next 30 minutes?” he growled.  The crew stood frozen as if they had just been blinded with a flashlight. Jack sighed from the back of the group and pushed her crew into the apartment. The Vagabond pushed the door closed behind them.

“So, uh… hey, man! I’m Geoff, and this is my uh, crew! Nice to meet ya,” Geoff held out a hand.

“Vagabond,” the man said simply, shaking Geoff’s hand with a tight grip. Michael and Gavin exchanged a look. “Sit down. I’d like to discuss your plan.” The group took a seat on the couch and chairs arranged around a low table. The wall-sized windows overlooked the skyline of Los Santos, neon lights casting soft orange light that bounced around the apartment. Distracted by the view, Gavin jumped when the Vagabond set down a bottle of wine in front of him.

“Refreshments?” he asked. Jack, Michael, and Gavin took the glasses he offered.

“No thanks, I don’t drink anymore,” Geoff said, waving it away. The Vagabond nodded.

“Yo, dude, is that a bong? Sick, bro!” Ray grinned. Their imposing, dark host snorted, muffling it with a cough. His smirking grin was hidden behind his mask. He gestured for Ray to do what he wished.

The strange group circled around the table, appeased, and Geoff began to lay out the plan.

* * *

 

“Everyone in position?” Geoff’s voice crackled over the earpieces. There was a chorus of five “yep”s, four laced with nerves and one that echoed and held strong.

Gavin, dressed in a sharp white suit with his hair slicked back, entered the opening hall of the manor. At the front desk he picked up a masquerade mask- gold, it looked best on him of course- and made his way into the ballroom.

“Eagle One in range of cock man” he whispered.

“I never thought I would hear that whispered in my ear, but here we are,” Michael said. He was stationed in the driver’s seat of the jeep poised to serve as the getaway car.

“Insert yourself into a conversation or something, you don’t want to look too out of place,” Jack instructed. She was on the way to the gala in a green dress that made her eyes pop but probably made everyone else’s eyes pop more.

“Right, let’s go for” Gavin lowered his voice obscenely, “maximum insertion”

“Fuckin’ christ,” Michael laughed.

“Is this just going to be sex puns the entire time?” Geoff sighed. He lay reclined next to Michael with a magazine over his face.

“His name is MIKE HAWK,” argued Michael, “if all other attempts fail we can just kill him from fucking shame over his dumbass name.”

“Speaking of attempts, Eagle One, you’ve got the ‘materials’ I gave you, right?” The Vagabond piped up. He was… somewhere around the gala. He was playing the part of the last resort, if things got bad he was the plan ‘H’ that they just hoped it didn’t come to.

“Well if by materials, you mean- cheers love, let me get a glass off of you” Gavin paused to nab some champagne from a server “-a couple stickers with smiley faces on them and two ominous as fuck pills, then yeah,”

“What about the knife?”

“Uh… wot?”

“I swear to fuck if you lost my goddamn knife,”

Gavin giggled nervously. There was a long sigh from the Vagabond and a tense silence from the rest of the group.

“Betsy, I’m so sorry I entrusted you to a fucking moron. RIP.” the Vagabond whispered.

“... What?” giggled Michael. There was another silence.

“Please tell me I didn’t leave my comms on when I said that,” came the quiet, sheepish voice of the assassin.

The earpieces were alight with snorts and giggles from the rest of the crew. The Vagabond yelled at them to ‘shut up’, but there was an audible smile in his voice.

“Seriously though, what do these do?” Gavin asked.

“So the pills are a fast-acting poison. They’ll dissolve in liquid and be invisible, but they are incredibly toxic. The stickers are poisoned too, so don’t get the sticky side on your skin or you’ll be dead.”

“... Jesus fuck, dude,” Jack muttered, “where and how did you get all this shit?”

“A guy’s gotta have his secrets,” the Vagabond fired back.

“Yeah, but you’re just secrets! We don’t even know your fucking name!” Michael added.

“You don’t know, maybe my name IS Sir Stabalot. Ever think about that one?”

“How can I help you, Sir Vagabond Stabalot?” Gavin laughed.

“Listen, fucker, you were the one that said we could choose our codenames! Don’t get pissy because you picked a shitty codename!”

“Hey assholes, pay attention! I’m coming up to the gate,” Jack announced. “Look alive bitches, operation Dicking Down is now in progress.”

  
  
  


 

“And Michael, wake up Geoff, please? I can hear him snoring in the background.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not going to really use Ray in this series. I came into the FAHC scene pretty late, when he had already left. Although I'm working my way through every single episode of the GTA series, my heart is rooted in the main 6 with Jeremy. Although I love Ray to bits, I haven't had the time or connection to write him properly. So Ryan's intro is really the only time he'll be there because he's still important in getting the crew where it is. Sorry for any disappointment!


	5. Operation Dicking Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The series of Mike Hawk jokes come to an end. Gavin makes a blunder. Tensions rise.

A sleek black limo rolled up to the gate of the Hawk manor. A stunning red-headed woman stepped out dressed in an emerald gown. She pushed her gold earrings to the side to touch her earpiece. “Game on.”

On that mark, the crew jumped into action. Gavin broke of the chat he was having with a group and excused himself upstairs. 

“The mark is surrounded by three blokes,” he whispered, “he’s not eating or drinking and no one is close enough to touch him. What do I do?”

“Stay near and let him get his speech done, he’ll start mingling after that,” Jack instructed in a mumble. She nodded to the doorman who allowed her into the manor giving him a glittering smile. “VB, where are you?”

“I’m kind of hurt that you’re not using my code name, but ok,” the Vagabond pouted, “I’m making my way around as security. I’ll take over when things go wrong.” Jack scanned the security guards. They were in tuxes stationed around the gala. Their faces were uncovered. She tried to make out which one was their teammate, but none of the gave her any hints.

“Listen, when things go wrong you’re not going to have the chance to take over because I have a grenade launcher and a low set of morals,” Michael laughed.

“Shh, I’m listening to dick man talk!” Gavin snapped, met immediately by giggles from everyone.

* * *

 

Mike Hawk finished his speech to a flurry of applause from everyone in the room. He walked off the stage and began shaking hands with the people at the front of the ropes keeping the crowd from the stage. Gavin slipped his way to the front of the group, peeling a sticker from its paper. He was careful to peel it only with his nail, terrified of touching the toxin to his bare skin. He palmed it carefully and awaited his target.

Gavin felt his breathing hitch as Hawk came closer to him. He forced a bright smile onto his face. He reached out a hand for a shake when suddenly he was struck from the side. The blow pushed him into another guest, knocking them both over. The sticker in his hand freed itself and fluttered downward, catching itself on Gavin’s other hand. He let out a high pitched yelp, flicked the sticker off, and furiously scrubbed any residue from his hand. The woman who had elbowed him out of the way was beaming at his target. Two guests helped him up and Mike Hawk gave him a hearty handshake and pat on the shoulder. Gavin allowed the handshake but sped off the second contact was broken.

The Vagabond heard a crackle over the guard’s radio that he had commandeered. ‘Suspicious guest- gold mask, white tux, sandy hair. Stay on the lookout.’ It reported.

“Guys, bad news and worse news,” Gavin had rushed to the bathroom and was washing his hands intently. “Bad news, I think I blew my cover. Worse news, I got the fucking sociopathic poison on my hands and I had better fucking not die because of this!” It was easy to recognize the honest fear that was fastened in his voice.

“That is bad,” the Vagabond muttered. “I’ll take care of it, let me get rid of some of these guards and we can start plan E.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’ve got this bleeding poison on my hands you mangy bitch and you’re all about the mission?” Gavin’s throat was tightening, and he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or the effects of the toxin. And that just made him more terrified.

“You blew your cover. You are no longer integral to the success of this mission. If you got it off quickly enough you might be okay, but even if you aren’t, this needs to work. With you or, y’know, without you.”

“Fuck you,” Michael spat over the comms. “Gavin, I’m coming to get you, hold on boi!”

“If you come in here with that grenade launcher and blow this for us I will cut you,” the Vagabond hissed. Michael threw the launcher into the lap of Geoff and jumped out of the car, stalking towards the manor. 

“No launcher. I’m coming for my boi. Fuck your plans, I’m not letting him die!” Michael hissed. A sickening crack resonated through the crew’s ears.

“What in the fuck was that?” Jack asked. A server, noticing her suddenly pale complexion, checked in on her and offered her a glass of water. She took it but didn’t drink. Scanning the room again, she began to notice the decrease in guards watching the guests.

“That was another buddy for my body box!” The Vagabond cheerily announced. Gavin gagged in the bathroom. “There should be four basic guards left and the three guarding Dick man. I’m looking for another buddy, so maybe don’t come down to the lower room.”

“I’m going for it,” Jack announced. Michael, now holding onto Gavin, looked across the ballroom with a frown. He saw Jack striding across the floor towards their target.

“What? No, we can get him without getting close. Ray, do you have a shot? We can get out now. Fuck subtlety or whatever. Ray?” Geoff’s voice was tense.

“I mean… not really?” Ray responded. “There are curtains over the top of the windows and covering any good angles. I don’t like it, but Jack’s probably our best shot.”

“I have a plan and it’s not like you can stop me now anyways!” Ignoring the worried cacophony of chatter from her teammates, Jack picked a glass of champagne off of a tray in passing and floated her way into the path of Mike Hawk.

“Oh, pardon me!” she said as she bumped into a bodyguard. “I’m so sorry to ask, but could any of you gentlemen walk me to my car? I would have asked another security member, but for some reason I can’t seem to find any!”

“Jack…” the Vagabond whispered in a threatening tone. Hawk’s guards glanced around the room. Confusion flashed across their faces.

“I saw some strange guy talking to a couple of them and they left back there,” Jack continued. She pointed towards the door to the lower room where the Vagabond was ‘working’. Two of the bodyguards looked at each other, then at Jack, then began to stalk their way over to the door.

“You fucking asshole,” the Vagabond spat, “you need to take out Hawk fast because things are about to pop off and I can’t guarantee it’ll be quiet.”

The remaining guard kept scanning the crowd, but his attention was diverted from the two main players circling each other. Jack smiled at Hawk and raised her champagne to him. He clicked his glass against hers. They grinned at each other, two hunters analyzing each other. One of them assessed the other correctly. The other was unaware of the danger the first posed.

“I almost wish these drinks had some accents in them,” Jack mused, “I’ve got a beautiful couple sets of goblets at home including a simply stunning  _ eagle one _ . Perhaps a little  _ ominous _ , but with the right  _ materials _ they make a lovely table setting.”

“Ohhh,” Gavin mumbled. “Mikey. Boi. She wants the pillllllllls.” Michael was dragging Gavin out the kitchen exit of the gala towards the getaway car. He grabbed at Gavin’s pockets and pulled out the small packet of pills. After a laborious hustle to the car, he dumped Gavin into the front seat. Gavin’s head lolled back. He was clearly delirious.

“Geoff, keep an eye on him. Jack, I’m coming with the pills, keep him occupied!” Michael once again raced back into the gala, panicked adrenaline spurring him onwards.

* * *

 

The next five minutes happened in a blur.

A subtle hand off between Jack and Michael occured, passing the pills closer to their target. Jack distracted Hawk for long enough to drop one of the pills into his drink and allow it to dissolve.

Hawk took a drink.

Gunshots were heard from the lower room and the party broke out into panicked screaming.

The Vagabond finished soaking the pile of bodies in gasoline and lit them on fire.

Mike Hawk collapsed, clawing at his throat and seizing.

The last remaining bodyguard drew his gun on Jack.

Viscera splattered on Jack’s dress as Michael dispatched the bodyguard.

Gavin, back in the car with Geoff, began shaking uncontrollably.

The message was spread across the comms- get out however you can, but do it fast.

Michael and Jack piled into the getaway car and Ray watched from a rooftop as the building exploded.

Gavin stopped breathing.

The Vagabond slipped away into the dark.

Los Santos did not sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger and shorter chapter! There will be one more update for this mission and then we'll move on. Thank you to the sweet readers leaving comments, you are what drive me to keep working!


	6. Mortality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is not happy. Gavin is confused. Ray is protective. Jack is concerned. Geoff is tired. Vagabond is just happy to be here.

“GAVIN!” Michael screamed. Geoff’s attention was split between the road and his unmoving friend.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Ray demanded.

“Vagabond, you fuck! What did you do?” Michael grabbed the earpiece from his ear and screamed directly into it. There was silence from the Vagabond.

“What did he do?” Ray asked.

“He fucking killed Gavin! He’s not moving and he’s not breathing and I don’t know what to do!” Michael’s voice broke.

“In my defense, I thought he would be fine,” the Vagabond said.

“You fucking cunt! I’ll kill you!” Michael snarled. His hands kept clenching and opening, furious and helpless.

“Move over, Michael,” Jack instructed. Michael allowed himself to be pushed away from clutching at Gavin’s face, but still held his head in his lap, refusing to let go. Jack began CPR. “Geoff, we need to go a hospital. Gavin’s really fucked up.” Sweat began to gather on her brow as she pushed Gavin’s chest up and down.

“If he’s not breathing, he’s already fucked,” the Vagabond interjected.

“Shut the fuck up!” Geoff snapped. “Nobody’s going to die!” He spun the car around and charged down the road far above the speed limit.

“We’ll get to the hospital and they’ll fix him and he’ll be fine,” Michael argued, but it sounded like he was convincing himself more than anyone else. “He’ll be fine! He’s Gavin! He’s stupid lucky!” Jack continued compressions for minutes as Michael muttered on in the background. “He’s done dumb shit like this before!”

“Michael…” Jack whispered.

“One goof won’t kill him! He’ll be back up in a minute!”

“Michael.”

“This is probably just another joke, he’s messing with us to make us panic! Good one, boi.” Michael shook Gavin’s shoulders.

“MICHAEL!” Jack shouted.

 

“I lost his pulse five minutes ago. He’s dead.”

 

The car fell silent. Geoff didn’t slow down, he just kept charging forwards in the direction of the hospital. Tears welled up in Michael’s eyes. He sniffed and brushed them away with a fist. He made a broken noise that bubbled from his throat and slammed his fists into Gavin’s chest. Jack put a hand on Michael’s arm. Far away, Ray sat in a staircase, hearing police sirens but unable to move from shellshock. Jack and Michael held Gavin’s unmoving body close.

And as they watched, it began to fade.

* * *

 

It was subtle at first- a little fuzziness around the edges. But in a matter of seconds, Gavin’s body and clothes turned transparent and his weight began to disappear from Michael’s lap. There was just enough time for a horrified scream from Michael and Jack before Gavin disappeared entirely.

“What? What’s happening?” Geoff asked, glancing behind him.

“He’s gone!” Jack said incredulously.

“I know, Jack… We’ll get to the hospital and-”

“No he’s GONE!” Michael said. “Gavin’s not here anymore! His fucking body disappeared!”

“What?” asked Geoff, Ray, and the Vagabond in unison.

“I don’t fucking know! What did- what? What the fuck?” Michael stammered. Their voices became indecipherable as everyone panicked at once.

“Guys, guys, GUYS!” Geoff shouted, quieting them all.

“Does this still mean we have to go to the hospital?”

* * *

 

Gavin took a deep breath in.

His eyes were blurry and his head was ringing, and there were rings around his vision.

Oh, right. That was the masquerade mask.

From the gala.

Which he had been poisoned at.

Gavin sat upright and looked around in a panic. It was quiet here, just crickets chirping and the occasional owl. He was in the middle of a field. He could barely see the skyline of a city in the distance. There wasn’t a road or any houses near him. He was just alone.

So he started walking.

When he reached a house, he was ridiculously tired and thirsty. The last drink he had was at the gala, and that was just champagne. He knocked on the door of the small cottage still on the outskirts of the city.

“Can I help you?” a middle-aged man answered the door. He adjusted his glasses to look over Gavin.

“Hi, uh, can I use your phone to call my friends? I think they left me out here as a… prank… and my phone doesn’t have service.” He hated talking to strangers. And having to approach one of his own free will, at their house, was possibly his worst nightmare. If this man had soggy bread in his house it would be two of the worst things combined and he was pretty sure he would die on the spot.

“Uh… you aren’t messed up, right man?” the man asked.

“No, no. I just really need to uh… to call them. I’m sorry to invade upon you and I guess I could uh… try to get closer to the city but… I’ll just, uh, I’ll go, sorry,”

“No it’s okay, we just… y’know I don’t see a lot of people around here so… and I never saw uh, your friends’ car. But it’s- no it’s fine! We have a landline like, right in the kitchen so uh you can use that.” The man moved aside and cautiously allowed Gavin into his home. Gavin, in return, cautiously entered the house. He dialed his best friend’s number.

Michael answered the phone.

* * *

 

“Who is this?” Michael asked. His voice was rough.

“Oh thank god you picked up,” Gavin sighed.

“... Who is this.” Michael said again.

“Wot? Mikey it’s me, Gav”

“I don’t know who you are, but fuck you. Vagabond if this is you I’m going to fucking slaughter you. You’re a fucking monster.”

“Michael, wot? Wait-”

Michael hung up. Gavin stood there for a minute, looking at the phone. Panic was starting to build up in his chest. What the hell was happening? Was this a prank? He took a deep breath in and dialed Geoff’s number.

Geoff answered the phone after a couple of rings.

“What?”

“Geoff, hey, it’s Gavin,”

“...”

“Geoff? Geoff, I’m somewhere outside the city and I don’t know what kind of prank this is but I really want to go home. Please?”

There was a long pause. Gavin heard whispers in the background. Michael was failing to keep his voice quiet enough to keep from being heard through the phone.

“Michael!” Gavin called, recognizing his whisper. The other side went silent. “Michael please don’t hang up the phone, just come pick me up! Team Nice Dynamite! What’s with you, boi?”

“Holy fuck, I think it’s him,” Geoff whispered.

“That’s- that’s not possible.” Michael insisted. “I watched him disappear. We all saw what happened.”

“What if it is him though? We can’t leave him outside the city.”

“Fuck it. Gav, where are you? I’m coming boi.”

* * *

 

Gavin sat on the couch of the apartment with a blanket over his shoulders. Jack was inspecting him. Geoff sat in the armchair with his head in his hands, thinking. Ray chatted with Gavin to keep him calm. Michael couldn’t bear to look at him yet.

The Vagabond barged in the door.

“Well, gentlemen,” he announced, “and lady, are you fucks ready to-” he stopped short, staring at Gavin. He set down six cups of coffee. “Huh, he actually isn't dead!”

“Get the fuck out,” Michael growled. His eyes were red.

“Yeah! You flipping poisoned me!” Gavin chimed in. “But then- what, you lot dumped me in a field outside Los Santos? What the farting shit is happening?”

“Gavin,” Jack explained in a low voice, “You… died.”

“Wot? But-” Jack held up a hand to stop him.

“The poison killed you. You stopped breathing and I tried CPR but… you wouldn’t wake up. Your heart stopped beating. You died.”

Gavin looked around the room, still convinced this was some kind of joke. Michael wouldn’t meet his eyes. Ray held his hand and patted him on the shoulder. Geoff had his head in hands. The Vagabond shrugged. Jack examined his face with a gentle expression of worry.

“B-but I’m not dead,” Gavin stammered.

“And there’s the great part!” the Vagabond exclaimed. He still wore his signature skull mask. The sight of him made Michael’s blood boil. All his self-control was keeping him from slaughtering the man in the mask.

“Seriously, man. You shouldn’t be here. How did you even find us?” Geoff demanded.

“I followed Ray,” Vagabond said. Ray cringed. “Anyways, it’s good I’m here!” He walked to the middle of the room and set the coffee down on the small table in front of the couch. “I got everyone coffee! Little after mission treat.” He slid a cup in front of Gavin. No one took their cup. The Vagabond shrugged. “See, Gav here is special. Like me.”

Michael punched him in the head.

* * *

 

Jack held back the screaming Michael while Geoff tried to calm him down. The Vagabond lay on the ground, dazed but awake. Blood dripped from Michael’s knuckles and onto the carpet. Ray relocked the door, just in case. Gavin picked up a cup of coffee in a daze and took a sip. He got a mouth full of whipped cream and french vanilla. The name on the cup said ‘Ryan’.

“Ryan?” Gavin wondered out loud.

“Ah, shit…” the Vagabond said. He sat up and gestured for the cup in Gavin’s hand. “I totally forgot to black that out.”

“Did you stop for Starbucks on the way here?” Ray asked.

“Yeah, where else would I get coffee? There’s a place a couple blocks away next to a bookshop. It’s really good,” he said.

Michael had stopped yelling. His voice was almost hoarse and at this point, he had spent a lot of his energy. Gavin didn’t give ‘Ryan’ his coffee. He sipped it again.

“Well, this is the only one I know wouldn’t poison me again, so I’ll keep this, thanks,” he snapped. Ryan pouted but grabbed another coffee from the table.

“Not like it would matter, anyway,” he muttered, “you’re immortal.”

Gavin spit out the coffee.

“Come on! At least drink it, asshole!” Ryan yelled.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jack asked.

“Well if I don’t get to drink it-”

“No, not the coffee, dickhead! The fuck do you mean ‘immortal’?” Jack snapped, fire in her eyes.

“Well jeez, tough crowd,” Ryan joked.

“Answer the question,” Geoff sighed. He was too tired to deal with anything happening.

“Well, your buddy can die, but he can’t stay dead,” Ryan explained, “so if he dies doing anything, he’ll just show up again. Usually in the area that you spend the most time, but I guess since it’s your first time, it ended up being somewhere else. Never outside the city, though. Always within the limits.”

“How do you know this?” Jack asked. Michael cut in.

“Bullshit, how do we know we can believe anything you say?”

“I speak from experience! You think I haven’t gotten shot to shit before? Subtlety is not my strong suit!” Ryan said.

“So if I shoot you right now,” Michael said slowly, “you’ll come back?”

“Yep!”

Michael shot Ryan in the chest.

* * *

 

“Definitely should have seen that coming,” Ryan mused, lying in bed. He took his mask off and held it up to the light. Blood dripped from the point where Michael had hit him. The heavy plating had protected Ryan, but he was sure that Michael would bruise badly. With a little chuckle to himself, he swung his legs over the side of his bed. He could imagine the chaos occurring in the small apartment housing the crew. 

He grabbed a phone from his dresser. It was a new burner, obviously not his personal phone. He took a piece of scotch tape and put it over the case of the phone. Popping a sharpie open with his teeth, he scribbled a quick “FAHC” on the tape. Satisfied, he dialed Geoff’s number. It went to voicemail. Fair enough.

“Hey, Geoff!” he said cheerily. “I’m at my apartment. Do you want to get paid or what? You can toss the coffee if you don’t want it, I’ll brew my own. Anyways, see you at my place!” he caught the beginning of Geoff picking up the phone, but he hung up. After a moment, his phone buzzed again. He ignored it. Humming, he saved the contact as “Kingpin”, and sat back on his bed with a smile.

He decided that running with a crew might be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chaos, hooray! Say goodbye to Ray, y'all. I love sniper boy, but it's Timmy Time. I'll give him a bit of a send-off though. I hope you liked our first two deaths!


	7. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray's going away party. Rimmy Tim is in the background somewhere. Ryan should take his mask off so he doesn't drown. Geoff has golf rage. This is a short chapter, but it's Ray's day!

The crew was in the middle of planning a heist.

Well, it wasn’t really a heist per say, it was more of a ‘let’s see what we can break and get away with’ kind of plan. Gavin’s newfound immortality had been accidentally tested a few times so they were deciding to use it to the best of their abilities. Or at least in the funniest ways possible. Thankfully, Gavin had started waking up in Geoff’s apartment rather than on the outskirts of town, so they were saving more on gas these days.

So with the five Fakes (and Ryan, who was still on thin ice) circled around the table, happily chattering about plans and explosions and bad ideas, Ray decided to break the news.

“So, guys,” he said, drawing the table’s attention, “this is uh… well this is... Uh… well, I...“

“Jesus fucking christ you interrupt and stutter? Don’t pull a Ryan,” Michael joked.

“I sp- use words cor-right!” Ryan protested. Jack immediately jumped on mocking him with Michael. Ryan threw up his hands in defeat.

“Maybe if you took your stupid fucking mask off for once you could use words better,” butted in Geoff.

“My mask is awesome! It’s my brand! I like it!”

“You love your mask that much, get a room!” Gavin jumped in.

“I have a fucking room! I have a fucking house! You fucks just insist on hanging out in this tiny ass place so I gotta be here too!”

Ray couldn’t help but smile at the group attacking each other playfully. He almost choked laughing when Gavin suddenly faded and after a moment his squeaky voice came from the other room screaming profanities at Ryan.

“I’m gonna miss you dumb fucks,” Ray said quietly. Suddenly, all the banter stopped and all heads turned to Ray. He felt like a deer in the headlights, except the deer was the best sniper in Los Santos and the car shining its beams on him was driven by five chaotic criminals that had blown up a good portion of the city.

“All right, ominous as fuck,” Jack laughed, but she was studying Ray’s face intently.

“What are you on about?” asked Gavin.

“Well…” Ray suddenly felt unsure about telling the crew. But he had spent so long preparing for this, and he had already started it, so he had to follow through. “This is going to be my last job.”

The crew was silent. All of them individually were trying to figure out if Ray was joking, or being manipulated into leaving, or dying, or god forbid, becoming a law-abiding citizen.

“Not my last job last job,” he hurried to clarify, “but… I’ve been hired for a bunch of freelance stuff. Y’know, solo missions and all that. And… I really have a future in that. I love it here, I love you guys, don’t get me wrong. But… Los Santos isn’t the place for me anymore, so… neither is the Fake AH Crew.”

Silence followed Ray’s words. It was difficult to stomach the idea of the peppy Ray not being present in the heists anymore making snarky comments from rooftops far away and always having the team’s back. The quiet was broken by Ryan pushing his chair backwards. He circled the table and laid a heavy hand on Ray’s shoulder.

“Speaking for myself, I’m gonna miss you, buddy.” The mask hid his face, but his voice was slow and careful, avoiding the hurt of losing Ray. “Who’s going to keep these mortal morons from getting shot in the back? Am I going to have to actually do my job now?” Ray laughed at that.

“You’re really leaving?” Gavin asked in a quiet voice. Ray nodded.

“We’re going to miss you so much you puerto rican prick,” Jack said, wrapping Ray in a tight hug.

“We’re still going to team up a bunch, so don’t think you’ve gotten rid of us yet, asshole,” Michael added. He joined Jack in squishing Ray.

Geoff added himself to the embrace. “We’ll always be here for you, dumbass.”

“Grouuuuuuup hug!” announced Ryan, dragging Gavin with him.

And laughing and tearing up, Ray returned the affection.

* * *

“Well, if this is your last party with us, we’re going all out!”

That was the general sentiment from the crew. They scrapped the old plan, much to Geoff’s chagrin, and whipped up a new one. Ray would take point, but everyone had a couple surprises up their sleeves.

They started at the bank where they had their first run in with Ray, which was soon after they added Michael to the team. They replicated that first time, but with Ryan as the new player and Ray actively on their side this time. Ryan traded in his Vagabond mask for the pink hockey mask that Ray insisted he wear. He still stood out from the group, who wore simple white masks, but he was happy to be included. Jack put sandwiches in the bags with the masks, each to the crew member’s preferences. Ryan’s bag only had a simple BLT because he was still being annoyingly secretive and refused to change masks in front of the crew, and somehow a piece of salami nearly covered Michael’s entire mask. 

“Tally ho, bitches!” Geoff called as he screamed out of the alleyway his car was placed in.

“Ray, turn around!” Michael yelled. Ray, in the back seat of the jeep, turned his head just in time.

The lines of police that were chasing after the Fakes suddenly disappeared in a shattering explosion of pink. Pink drowned out the blue sky from the coloured smoke bombs that Michael had mixed in with his usual explosives. Ray and Michael’s maniacal laughter reverberated through the city.

Next stop was the docks. Sure, they could have just hidden out under there and then returned to any one of their apartments, but if it was simple, it wouldn’t be a FAHC plan. So instead it was to colour coded speedboats that no one really knew how to drive (except for Gavin to everyone’s confusion and concern) but everyone wanted to try. Ryan launched himself off a rock and barely jumped off his boat in time before it exploded, shrapnel absolutely shredding his clothing. He swam to Ray’s boat and clambered aboard, ditching his jacket.

“Holy shit Ry are you-” Ray paused, staring at Ryan’s chest. “Is that a fucking skull??? Did you shave your chest hair into a FUCKING SKULL??”

Ryan took a break from coughing up seawater and gave Ray a massive grin. “Surprise!”

There was a massive explosion nearby and a high pitched squeak. After a moment, Michael yelled out; “Gavin blew up! He says he’ll be right back and steal a car and meet us at the beach!”

“Fuckin idiot,” Jack added. She rammed Geoff’s boat from the side, shoving him off of the wave that he was trying to ride. Michael slammed into him from the other side. Jack hit him again, knocking him hard enough that he spun into a sailboat.

A long, drawn out ‘fuuuuck’ grew in volume from the earpieces and made the crew wince and giggle.“What the fuck are you DOING?” Geoff yelled- “AND NOW I’M GETTING SHOT AT BY THE COPS!” A police speedboat was trying its best to catch up with them, siren blaring. The crew dissolved into laughter, Ray nearly losing control of his boat from wheezing. “IF I DIE I WILL FIRE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU CHUCKLEFUCKS!”

“You planning on being immortal too, Geoff?” Ryan asked from the back of Ray’s boat.

“DOESN’T MATTER! I’LL MANAGE!”

“You should totally sprunk him once he gets close to us,” Ryan whispered to Ray, who nodded with a grin.

“I CAN HEAR YOU THROUGH THE COMMS, DICKHEAD” The crew laughed harder. The northern beach of Los Santos was coming into view, and they could already see a fire burning.

“Here’s our stop!” Ray skidded the speedboat across the water, coming to a stop safely before hitting the beach, but Michael didn’t fare as well. He slammed into the sand at full speed and went flying, coming to a stop by hitting an umbrella with a weak ‘ow’. Geoff was the next closest, but instead of heading for the beach, he kept going.

“Geoff, what the fuck are you doing?” Jack asked.

“There’s still a fucking cop on me!” He wailed. “No thanks to you shit dick fucks!”

“Rude,” Ryan mumbled. He pulled a flare gun from god knows where and handed it to Ray. “Think you can snipe him?”

“Which one?” Ray smirked, but fired at the police boat. Ryan watched in impressed silence the flare strike the boat’s driver, and Geoff shrieked as his boat was littered with the debris from the explosion. “Niiiice.”

Gavin ran up to the crew as Jack leapt from her boat onto the sand. “I goofed!” He yelled. Following him was a line of police officers, guns drawn. Jack, Michael, and Ray scrambled for cover. Gavin ran for the water and jumped in, and Ryan drew another gun.

“What the fuck is swimming going to do?” Michael screamed. “You can’t die, you idiot!”

Gavin’s head popped out of the water. “Oh… right,” he ashamedly giggled. “But I don’t have a gun on me!”

A gun hit Gavin in the face. Ryan fired round after round into the police, sometimes hitting the cover that they had scrambled for, but more than often hitting their target.

“How many fucking guns do you have on you?” Michael asked. Ryan shrugged. His gun clicked empty. He reached for another magazine, but there was none on his belt or on the outside of his pack. The remaining officers stood from their hiding places, opening fire.

“KNIFE!” Ryan yelled. A blade struck true into one of the cop’s foreheads, another finding its way to his partner’s chest. The final police officer fired the rest of her gun’s chamber into Ryan’s chest and he toppled to the ground. “Ah fuck,” he whispered, and went still. 

Gavin finished off the last cop. “Y’know, maybe we should get off this beach,” he offered.

“Yeah, especially because it’s fucking on fire,” Ray added.

“... I might have forgotten about that,” Gavin said.

"Y'know though, it's a nice backdrop for like, a sappy postcard," Ray contemplated. "A 'wish you were here' kind of thing." He turned to the crew (the ones present and not bleeding out). "Thanks, guys. This was... nice. In a Fakes kind of way."

The crew looked up with fire and excitement in their eyes to watch flames cover the wooden deck of the beach boardwalk with smiles on their faces, happy to spend a day with one of their best friends. Missing the sight of Ryan’s body vanishing, Geoff cresting a massive wave, and the solitary figure unfazed by the sight of the fire, his eyes locked on the crew.


	8. Intro: Jeremy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LIIIIITLE J!!!!!!!!!!  
> Everyone is a dick and Geoff fucked up a job. But that will have no bad consequences anywhere in the future! At all! Ever!

It had been a month since Ray had left the crew.

The crew had toned down their work, although not intentionally. They missed their friend, and the main six had lost their sixth. Even Ryan was obviously moping about. Things, however, were about to be more exciting.

The skyscraper’s 27th floor blew. 

“MICHAEL!” Jack screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE?” The red-headed lady swung from a rope attached to a helicopter hovering above the building, just out of range of the blast.

Michael, curls peppered in soot from the explosion, cackled from above her. “Gavin, go go go!” he giggled. The helicopter rose into the air, choppily navigating around the high spires of Los Santos.

“Ohhh scrote-cheese, there’s choppers on us!” Gavin wailed. The police chopper behind them activated its loudspeaker, calling out to the crew.

“This is the Los Santos police department. Land your chopper and give up your weapons and-“ the chopper exploded. Ryan’s laughter chimed in.

“Good morning Los Santos!” he howled. He stood in the middle of the street, a rocket launcher over his shoulder, mask almost glowing in the warm morning light. People on the street ran from the nearly demonic man. Police cars screamed towards him, but a line of pre-planted explosives took the first line out, creating a barricade.

“Geoff, we got it?” Jack panted, clambering up into the copter and swatting at Michael.

“Well, yes and no…” Geoff answered. The crew collectively paused.

“What do you mean yes and no? Do you have the fucking computer shit we came for or do you not?” Michael snapped.

“…Yes.”

“So you have it?”

“Well…”

“Geoff, what the dicks do you have?” Gavin was having trouble concentrating.

“So, uh, funny coincidence,” Geoff stalled, “While I was coming from the computer room I ran into a, uh, gentleman, who made an interesting offer, and… well, I don’t have the tech, but I have a good couple grand instead!”

“GEOFF! We were fucking hired to get the tech!” Jack raged.

“Well I got the tech, and then I got a better offer!”

The two began to bicker over the radio. Geoff came out of the front doors of the building, guarded by Ryan and his weaponry.

“Hurry up, Geoff! Let’s go!” called Ryan. He was backing up as he fired, making his way to the place the getaway car was set to be. With Geoff holding on to the cash and now focused on following him rather than arguing with Jack, the two turned and ran.

“Gavin, where the fuck is the car?” Geoff turned the corner to where the nondescript car was supposed to be, but was met with an empty space. 

“Whaddya mean me? Jack set up the vehicles,” Gavin fired back. He was far more concentrated on trying to keep the helicopter stable.

“This heist is a fucking train wreck!” Ryan laughed. “You dumbasses couldn’t get one car in place?”

“We scored a goddamn helicopter!” Michael retorted. “We did pretty well for a bunch of dickheads working out of a shitty apartment!”

“Our apartment is great! It has character!” yelled Geoff.

“I’m gonna go steal a car. Geoff, don’t get shot for like five minutes!”

* * *

 

Geoff woke up at home. He had a raging headache and his heart was going a mile a minute. In his arms he still clutched the briefcase of money that he had traded their assigned job for. He stood up and made his way to the living room, only to find it strangely empty. Police sirens still screamed on the street outside, and he could hear chopper blades in the distance.

Geoff pulled out his cell phone and called Jack. Before he could get a word out, she went off on him. 

“Geoff where the fuck did you go?” Ryan got a car and you were fucking gone! Are you okay? What happened? Where are you?”

“I’m at home,” he answered. “I think I got shot?”

“Are you fucking okay?” He could hear Michael and Gavin yelling on the other side of the call.

“Yeah, I’m fine… I don’t know what happened, one second I was there and the next I was just in bed at the apartment.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ryan hijacked the call. He sounded like an excited child. “Holy shit! Geoff, you totally did get shot! Dude, do you know what this means?”

“I’m magic?”

“No! I mean, yeah, I guess. But it means you’re immortal! Like me and Gavin!”  
“… fucking hell.” Geoff sighed.

* * *

 

Reconvened in Geoff and Jack’s apartment, the crew sat down to talk.

“Why the fuck did you drop the job?” Jack smashed her hands down on the table and glared at Geoff.

“I mean we made more money than we would have,” he tried to excuse himself, but Jack obviously wasn’t pleased with that answer.

“Who gives a shit! It’s the political impact of the thing! Now people won’t trust us to complete our jobs!”

Geoff let out a long sigh, laying his head down on the table. “Listen, to be fair to me, he had like… a really big knife.”

“Oh, and big fucking deal that would have been! You can just un-die!”

“Well I didn’t know that at the time!”

The two returned to a yelled bickering match. The rest of the crew lost most interest after about fifteen minutes, and turned to other activities. Michael counted the money with Gavin, whacking his hands when Gavin tried to sneak bills from the pile. Ryan sat in the big armchair, cleaning his weapons.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

The crew looked at each other, silenced, then sprung into action. Ryan stowed his weapons and hid, Gavin shoved the cash under the couch, and Michael covered any that was poking out with a blanket to disguise it. With one hand on a knife tucked subtly into his belt, Geoff answered the door.

“Hi! Are you Geoff?” A short man stood in front of the door. His hair was a short dark brown, and tense muscles were visible under his t-shirt. He had an anxious but determined grin on his face.

“Who are you?” Geoff asked. The hand on his knife relaxed slightly, but he was still wary.

“Oh, my name is Jeremy,” the man stated, “And I want to join your crew.”

* * *

 

Geoff allowed Jeremy into the apartment, closing the door behind him. The crew, minus Ryan, inspected him carefully. Jack patted him down, checking for weapons or a wire. She found only one weapon, a pistol with an orange barrel and purple grips. She handed the gun to Michael. He turned off the safety and held the weapon loosely, but the threat was obvious. Jack backed up to sit on the arm of the couch next to him.

“So,” she said, her voice flat and suspicious, “Why do you think we have a crew?”

“I mean, you’re the Fake AH Crew, right?” Jeremy asked, suddenly looking a lot more nervous.

“What makes you think that?” Jack snapped.

“Well, I mean, you’re not super subtle…” Jeremy laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze darting about the five members of the crew. None of them laughed, so he cleared his throat and continued. “None of you usually wear masks except for Vagabond, you each have super easy to recognize M.O.s, and you refer to each other by name like, constantly. Literally everyone has been close enough to one of you (well, not Vagabond) to hear you call someone else’s name. I’ve followed your work since Jack, Geoff, and Michael started working together!”

“So, you’re a cop.” Michael growled, his finger having over the trigger of the gun even though he hadn’t yet raised it to aim at Jeremy.

“No, no!” The shorter man warned, “I’m not a cop! Not a cop! I’ve just been a bounty hunter and like, muscle for a while!” His voice raised in volume as he panicked.

“Are we just supposed to take you up on face value then?” Jack’s eyes were narrowed, and she leaned forward, looking unsettlingly like a puma about to attack.

“Well, I mean, I have references, but you’d probably only hear about my criminal name, so.”

“Criminal name?” Gavin piped up to ask. The other three had the same confused look he did.

“Well, y’know, like Vagabond is not his real name? I hope? And Geoff is the Kingpin, and Michael is Mogar, and Gavin is the Golden Boy, and Jack is… I mean I’ve heard you called “The Red Lady” a bunch but I don’t think that’s your official thing? Did you guys not fucking know that?” He had an incredulous lilt to his voice.

“Why am I the Golden Boy? What does that even mean?” Gavin thought he maybe should be offended, but he wasn’t sure why or how.

“I dunno, it’s just what people call you. I,” he paused for emphasis, sticking out his chest proudly, “am Rimmy Tim.”

Ryan swung around the corner, tripping over the coffee table and slamming into Jeremy, knocking him to the ground.

* * *

 

“WAIT.” He exclaimed, and suddenly Jeremy looked like he really regretted being there. “You’re Rimmy Tim?”

“You know this dude?” Michael asked. ‘Rimmy Tim’ looked just as surprised, and a lot terrified.

“I totally should have realized! Jesus, I’m dumb!” Ryan laughed, helping Jeremy up. The shorter man still looked like he was considering running. “Oh right, you’ve never seen me with my mask on!” he exclaimed.

“You take your mask OFF?” Geoff cut in. Ryan didn’t answer, instead working on unbuckling his mask. It almost seemed like it should hiss as it unlatched, but it came off easily, with no strange curses or demons being unleashed as the material separated from Ryan’s face.

“So you wear a mask… and then underneath it you PAINT YOUR FACE?” Michael stood up, waving the gun at the unmasked Vagabond. Apart from his impressively blue eyes, There wasn’t much to discern him form a normal person. Red, white, and black face paint disguised his features efficiently. But Jeremy seemed to recognize this new appearance.

“RYAN?” he yelped, grabbing him into a hug. Ryan chuckled and returned the gesture. “Dude I really should have fuckin’ put that together!” His excitement then quickly turned to annoyance. “You’re the fucking Vagabond and you never TOLD ME?” He punched Ryan in the arm. Ryan laughed, but from the way he was gingerly moving the arm, the crew could tell that it had hurt a lot more than he was trying to let on.

“I wanted to see how long it would take you to figure it out!” he grinned. Jeremy punched him again before Geoff stepped in between the two.

“Okay, uh, fuckin’… buddy-buddy reunion on pause. How the fuck did you find us?” he asked Jeremy. Ryan took a seat in the armchair that he had previously vacated, avoiding the stares of his co-criminals.

“Well I only started looking like a month ago,” Jeremy explained, “when uhh, Ray left. You guys had that big heist, remember? And you took a bunch of uh jet skis or something? Anyways, I was out prepping a… thing… that I have going, and you schmucks fuckin’ tipped my goddamn boat over and nearly got me just ANNIHILATED by cops.”

Michael giggled. “Oh yeah, I do kinda remember that part!”

“So anyway after I escaped the cops and finished my boat thing, I went looking for you guys. I figured, y’know, either I was gonna get payback or a job or something, right? So I tracked some of your more recent stuff and triangulated your position and followed you here!”

“God damn it,” Jack sighed.

“Hey Ryan, is he… y’know?” Michael indicated towards Gavin, Ryan, and with a slight afterthought, Geoff.

“Oh yeah, Lil J’s immortal too!” Ryan beamed. “I remember his first death! Good times.”

“I got blown up by a bear!” Jeremy added.

“Disregarding… whatever the hell that story is, Geoff? Your opinion?” Jack was starting to get really pissed off with her idiot friends and their idiot friends and the general Venn diagram of idiots that kept intersecting at the focal point of her crew.

Geoff groaned. “Fuck it. We’re short on manpower- and ladypower- anyway. Sure. Fucking, uh, let’s say three-month internship and then we’ll initiate you in.”

“Initiation?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“We need to stop letting every stray puppy that shows up with a gun into the crew!” Geoff snapped.

“That metaphor broke down fast,” said Ryan.

“Your face broke down fast.”

“Great comeback, Mr. Kingpin.”

Geoff threw up his hands and growled, muttering as he left the room. “I hate this fucking crew.”


End file.
